A Mother's Daughter
by PreciousJax
Summary: A simple twist of fate can send a life from one polar to the next. [At long last, C.03 added on 8/25]
1. C.01

A/N: My first attempt at Alias AU. I think from this point forth, its pretty self-explanatory, but I'll give you the basis for it up front. A simple twist of fate can send a life from one polar to the next. Take Sydney Bristow. Her life could have taken two paths. One way being with her father, fighting SD6 from the inside, righting the wrongs of her oblivious past. But what if a simple factor in that equation, her mother, changed that path. Then sent Sydney on a path that was already written for her, since the day she was born.  
  
  
  
A Mother's Daughter  
  
  
  
December 15th, 1974  
  
Charleston, West Virginia  
  
The dying sunlight streaked over the sky, crimson and violet crashing together as the temperatures dropped. The sky was clear, a few small stars beginning to twinkle on as Laura Bristow, bundled against he biting wind, watched from her front porch.  
  
Dusk had always, for as long as she could remember, been her favorite time of the day. She remembered sitting on her father's shoulders as they'd walked the streets of Moscow while they watched the sun dip beneath the tall office buildings. Those walks had become few and far between as the Cold War raged on, but she'd always watch the sunset from her bedroom window and pretend she was with her father.  
  
A different country, a different season, a different life. What used to be skyscrapers were now replaced with craggy mountains. Her father was long since dead, so she now watched her sunsets alone.  
  
The child in her lap gurgled happily. Not alone, Laura reminded herself. She now had a child to share her sunsets with. "Yes, Sydney, I know." Laura crooned into her child's ear. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" One plump arm shot into the air, grasping as if trying to touch something just out of reach. "You want to touch the stars, do you Syd?" Laura turned the child, hugging her to her chest tightly. "Will you bring Mommy home one? Will you bring me a star, sweetheart?"  
  
Sydney curled her fingers around her mother's hair, and then laid her head on Laura's shoulder. Laura rocked back in forth in the wicker chair, they sat like that till the sky was dark, a sleeping child in her mother's arms.  
  
Headlights sliced through the darkness like lasers, the car coming to a screeching halt in front of their house. Laura strained to see, rising to stand at the edge of the porch. "Jack?! Is that you?" She saw her husband's body move through the darkness without a word. "You're home early. I didn't expect you to be home until Friday night."  
  
Jack stepped into the light of the front porch. "You bitch." He seemed to choke on the words. "You lying bitch."  
  
Laura stared at Jack, bewildered a moment. Then, with her daughter's head cupped in her palm, realization flooded through her. "Not in front of the baby." Laura said simply, then turned and opened the front door, walking into the warm home silently. The screen door slammed behind her, then a moment later squeaked open again as her husband followed closely on her heels.  
  
Laura laid Sydney down gently in the bassinette. The warm brown eyes of her daughter bore into hers, as if questioning her actions the same was her father was. Laura closed her eyes briefly, draining her mind of everything. Those who know her work knew that that's what she did before she completed an assignment.  
  
Her mind was always devoid of all emotion when she killed.  
  
Jack Bristow had no time to react when his wife spun, grabbing the gun from the holster under his arm. Instinctively, he made a grab for it, but it was already too late. Laura swept her legs under Jack, watching him crumble to the ground with blank disinterest.  
  
The sound of her disengaging the safety was like an endless echo in Jack's head. "I'm sorry, Bristow, I really am." Her voice now carried a hint of her Russian childhood; one he'd only heard when she was extremely angry or extremely aroused. "I knew this day would come eventually, but I had hoped you'd be of more use to me before I had to end our…working relationship, if you will."  
  
Jack inched back, feeling the panic rise in his throat. "Why?" He said, emotion slurring his words. "Why did you do this to us, to your country, to your child? Why did you do this to—" His body jerked when the first bullet plowed into his chest. A whistled breath escaped his lips as he collapsed backwards, head making a sickening sound as it met the hardwood floor.  
  
Laura stepped forward and aimed, firing the second shot. Then the third. Jack Bristow moved no more.  
  
She stood over the body watching as blood, thick and warm, began to run onto the floor. She leveled the gun once more, preparing for the final shot to the head. Her finger began to tense on the trigger when she reconsidered. The fourth shot was unnecessary. If he wasn't already dead, he would be in a matter of seconds due to blood loss. Always the practical assassin, Laura clicked the safety back on and slipped the weapon into her coat pocket.  
  
Efficiently, Laura unscrewed the mouthpiece of the phone and activated a small microchip, far advanced for its time, by reconnected a single green wire. The connection was made instantly. "Hello." She said in flawless Russian. "It is Huntress. I need an extraction team immediately."  
  
"Copy Huntress, approximate ETA twelve minutes."  
  
Laura set the phone back in its cradle without a word. She turned towards her daughter, startled when the child's eyes, now cold, met hers. It was as if those eyes were accusing her, confronting her, comprehending what had just happened. Chilled the core, Laura picked up Sydney, wrapping a thick blanket around her daughter. She did not pack bags, Laura knew they'd need nothing. She simply walked out the back door of the house, without a glance at the body that lay bleeding in her living room floor. The body of a man she'd married three years before. The body of a man she'd made love to, created a child with, created a life with.  
  
It would be the last time Lara Petrova would ever step foot inside the United States. 


	2. C.02

1 A/N: All dialogue, unless otherwise specified, is in Russian. But I couldn't exactly write it in Russian, because then you and I both wouldn't understand it, would we? Also, all information used here on the Palacio Real I obtained from http://travel.yahoo.com/t/europe/spain/madrid/lp_attractions.html. After that, I just ad libed the information on their security, what is kept where, the layout, ect. If anyone has actually been there and wants to correct me, have a field day. As always, feedback is begged for. jaci@fanfiction.net  
  
A/N 2: Per usual, my unspeakable gratitude goes out to my plot-bitch Jeanne. Not fer her, me'd be talkin' like dis.  
  
2  
  
  
  
MADRID, SPAIN  
  
APRIL 3RD, 2002  
  
Hanging eighteen feet over the floor of the Farmica Real was not the best time or place to become philosophical. Despite herself, Tasia found herself smiling down and the ornately tiled floor below her. In normal families, a 'favor' involved either some sort of housework or a loan of the monetary sort. When her stepfather asked of a favor of her, Tasia found herself breathing slowly and shallowly so she didn't activate the motion sensors and get arrested and probably killed for breaking and entering into a federally controlled building.  
  
For some reason, Tasia doubted the excuse of 'my dad asked me to' was going to work all that well.  
  
"I've almost got it." The voice rasped through the headphones secured tightly to her head.  
  
"Alexi." Tasia growled. "You 'almost had it' fifteen minutes ago."  
  
In an unmarked van less then a mile away, Alexi Metakoff chuckled. "No, I didn't 'almost have it' then. But I do now. Thirty more seconds. I'll swear to it."  
  
"You're getting slow in your old age." Tasia muttered, unable to keep the grin from spreading across her face. "Should have stayed in Cancun, old man."  
  
"If you think that's an insult, you're mistaken." He shot back, tapping keys on the laptop in front of him. "I much rather be relaxing in my condo then freezing my ass to get some little bottle for your father."  
  
"If you'd hurry up, you can get back to weaving grass mats or whatever you do down there."  
  
"Almost got it."  
  
Tasia mentally went over what she had to do. She'd practiced time and time again and could probably pull this off in her sleep, but she never once allowed herself to relax during a mission. Soon as you relaxed, you were dead. It's a lesson she understood well, as she'd been hired as a replacement for someone who'd let their guard down on the job. So she thought through her steps one last time, visually checking her equipment, making sure there were no unseen problems down below.  
  
"Okay…get ready, Taz." The voice was different, still raspy, but now carrying an underlying excitement. She, as a fellow operations officer of K-Directorate, recognized the pitch of adrenaline as it flowed through her own veins like blood. "Motion sensors killed, you've got three minutes!"  
  
In two smooth flicks of her wrist, one dropping the thin black rope from her left hand and the other releasing the brake on her harness, Tasia hurdled towards the floor with a high pitched squeal of metal rubbing against the rope. The cable jerked taunt, inertia flinging Tasia's body back, even as she unclipped the harness and dropped the last two feet to the floor gracefully, with barely a sound. Motion sensors and noise- activated alarms were deactivated, but she naturally stepped lightly and her movements were quick and efficient.  
  
All around her, glass winked and glittered in the dim security lights. Each week, hundreds of people toured the Farmica Real to see the thousands upon thousands of intricately decorated bottles that once belonged to the Spanish monarchy. Reds and blues, purples and greens; they all blended together on tables, shelves, and pedestals, each meticulously protected under glass cases.  
  
Tasia knew, glancing around the room, that she was going to need every second of her three-minute time frame. Finding a specific bottle in the room, with only the vaguest of descriptions and barely any knowledge were it would be was going to eat a large hole in her time.  
  
She slithered along the displays, not knowing what she was looking for, hoping she'd recognize it when she saw it. "Status?" Alexi buzzed in her ear anxiously.  
  
"I'm still looking." She replied tersely.  
  
Twenty precious seconds ticked by before she spotted the article of so much interest. It appeared almost out of place, the simple shapeless vase of an amber hue. A perfect circle surrounded by a diamond, clear as water, was blazoned into the center. Other then its complex history, the bottle seemed almost simplistic. Somehow, it still managed to draw the eye and hold it for a long, thoughtless moment. Tasia realized she was staring and fought her mind back onto the task at hand. "I've got it." She whispered into the microphone positioned over her mouth. She unzipped a deep pocket on the right side of her vest and pulled out a compact laser glasscutter. "Thirty more seconds and I'll be on my way out. How am I on time?" She pressed the suction cup onto the side of the glass case.  
  
"Time is not my concern." Alexi's voice picked up a shade of violence. Even as he spoke, Tasia heard the distant and unmistakable whir of a helicopter. "We've got company."  
  
Tasia whispered, every muscle in her body tensing. "SD6." If there was one thing she hated more then an SD6 agent fucking over her mission, it was an SD6 agent fucking over her mission when she was supposed to be on vacation. "Change of plan, get the to the southeast exit ASAP. My ETA is under one minute."  
  
Tasia tossed the glasscutter aside, pulled the sleeve of her jacket over her right hand. Blocking her eyes with her left, she shattered the delicate glass case with a single jab with her elbow. Instantaneously, high, squealing alarms shrilled and the room flooded with light. Quickly brushing the largest of the shards of glass away from the upturned vase, Tasia grabbed it even as she began to run. She tucked the surprisingly light vase into the padded case she wore clipped to her belt with one hand.  
  
Seconds later, Tasia heard glass shatter a few yards behind her. She froze, whirling to asses the agent. He had her by at least fifty pounds. Sighing inwardly, Tasia forced a startled look on her face and patted the case at her side, as if making sure it was still there. 'Come and get me.' She thought to herself, beginning to back away. 'Just come and get me, you fucking idiot.'  
  
Tasia turned and fled, and after hearing the pound of feet pursuing her, was glad that SD6 agents were as predictable as ever.  
  
Deciding against the ascenders clipped to her vest, she ran forward with a final burst of speed and grabbed the rope above her with both hands. Climbing was something she'd loved as a child, a hobby that had often gotten her into trouble with her mother. But now she slowed her motions, allowing the agent behind her time to catch up. Despite the urge to simply run, Tasia decided simple elimination was better then the risk of the SD6 agent catching up to Alexi and herself.  
  
She bit back and oath as she felt the jerk of another person climbing the rope. She climbed slightly faster, adding height to their chase. Tasia waited for the man to be within earshot to swear dramatically in Russian.  
  
She grabbed the edge of the air vent with one hand and had to give the man credit - for a big guy, he moved pretty fast. "So like SD6." She murmured under her breath. "To let someone else do the work and then swoop in and try to get the glory."  
  
The large, sweaty hand grabbed Tasia's ankle and attempted to pull her down. She swung her feet off the rope, metal and wire biting into her hands to compensate for the new weight.  
  
Tasia brought her leg up, whistled lightly, and waited for the agent to lift his head slightly. The slight diversion was all that was needed. Tasia kicked down, her heel meeting the agents face with a nauseating crunch. He didn't fall, but his grip faltered, and he slipped down slightly. He made no sounds as Tasia slid down the rope after him, her heavily gloved hands protected from brush burns. With one final blow to the face, followed by a kick to the throat, the man released the rope and fell the short distance to lie unconscious on the floor below.  
  
Tasia hung from the rope a moment longer, her biceps screaming in protest, satisfied from the lack of movement from her assailant. The subtle rise and fall of his chest indicated he wasn't dead. Just as the bleeding and disfiguration of his face indicated that he'd be right where he was when the security finally arrived.  
  
With a final survey of the Farmica Real, its floor covered in shattered glass, Tasia slipped through the vent as soundlessly as she'd arrived.  
  
3 


	3. C.03

A Mother's Daughter 

Chapter 3 

April 5, 2002 

Madrid, Spain 

"Goce de su vuelo, Senorita Petrova."  The flight attendant handed Tasia her boarding passed and smiled politely.  It was a bright, toothy smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.  Tasia, recognizing the signs of working long hours, admired the woman's patience.  

"Gracias." She said, slipping the pass into the pocket of her well-worn corduroy jacket and stepping out of line.  Turning away from the boarding area, she made her way to the small café.  Entering her twenty-third hour of wakefulness, she hitched the strap of her oversized messenger bag and prepared to satiate herself with massive amounts of caffeine while she was still on solid ground.  Airline food sucked, but airline coffee sucked on a whole other level.  "Café grande de la avellana y un mollete de la cereza, por favor." 

The man wasn't nearly as polite as the woman manning the ticket desk and filled her order without the slightest acknowledgement.  "Seis veintetres Pesetas, por favor." After a quick exchange of money, Tasia made her way back to the boarding area with her large Hazelnut coffee and a cherry muffin in a white paper bag.  She settled down in one of the thankfully comfortable chairs, curling her feet under her and taking a long, slurping sip from the cup.  Tasia closed her eyes, wincing as the liquid scalded the back of her throat.  

Her wince turned into a scowl as her cell phone rang.  She set her coffee down on the empty seat beside her and began digging through her carry on bag.  She unearthed the small silver phone on the third ring.  She glanced at the caller ID and smiled, flipping open the phone and answering just before the voicemail picked up.  "Checking up on me, Mother?" She said jokingly.  

"Didn't want you to oversleep." Lara said brightly.  

"No, I'm awake, I'll be on my plane." Tasia didn't add that it was hard to oversleep when you simply didn't go to sleep.  

"So, how is Madrid?" 

"It's here," Tasia said with a small laugh.  "And the alleys are in top condition.  That's about all I had time to see." 

"So you were busy?" Lara inquired.  "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" 

"A little of each," Tasia paused to take a small bite from her muffin.  "We had some problems, but in the end, it all worked out." 

"You will tell me all about it when you are home.  You missed the Tretyakov fundraiser." Lara seamlessly shifted gears, from employer to mother.  "Makarei was asking about you." 

Rolling her eyes, Tasia had to grin.  "Oh, Mother, you used to be so much more subtle in your matchmaking!" 

"Matchmaking?  Matchmaking!" Lara muttered.  "I'm simply stating that you were missed.   I have much better things to do with my time than force men on you." 

Tasia began to tease her mother back, but paused as a pleasantly accented voice announced boarding on her flight.  "Mother, I've got to go, my plane is boarding." 

"Alright, be safe, little one." 

"I will." Tasia stood, hitching her bag onto her shoulder.  "Do you want me to come by the office before I go home, or should I just brief you tomorrow?" 

"Go home and get some sleep.  You may be taking another trip soon, so rest up while you can." 

"Okay, see you soon.  Goodbye, Mother." Tasia hung up, slipped her cell phone into her pocket, pulled out her boarding pass, and walked towards the desk.  Just as soon as she was in her seat, she was fast sleep, her head pillowed against the thick glass window.  

She dreamed that she was walking through hospital.  The sounds of death were everywhere; the scent of death clogged her throat.  She looked to her right and saw her mother sitting on a chair; a silver crown perched atop her head.  Even in the hideous orange dress, Lara looked regal and beautiful.  

_"Look, Anastasia.  Look." _She pointed over Tasia's left shoulder.  Her hands were covered in blood.  

_"Mom?"_ Tasia asked uncertainly.  

_"Anastasia.  You must look to see." _ Her voice was frigidly cold.  She pointed again, jabbing her finger at Tasia.  

She turned and saw herself, covered her face smeared with blood. 

And then she began to scream.  

A/N:  Oh my.  Well, first off, my apologies for the length of time it's been.  This story has always been kicking around in the back of my head, but finding the time to write it has been a trial.  I'm in the process of ripping up my outline to make it more plausible, but I'm trying to get back on schedule.  As usual, feedback is greatly, greatly, greatly appreciated.  It always inspires me to write more.   But, keep in mind, this was started AGES ago, way back before we knew SpyMommy's real name, so I was still making stuff up back then.  Just go with it.  Review! I'm begging!  


	4. Author's Note

I've decided it's best to start this story over. It's been such a long time since I had my original outline that it's totally outdated, and I think it'd be better if I fixed some of the storyline details that changed as the season progressed. For instance, I had started this story before we knew SpyMommy's real name. I had just made one up for the purposes of the fic, and now we have a real name. Doing a rewrite gives me the chance to fix things I didn't like in the first version and generally make the story easier to read. I usually don't do things like this, even when I feel the story would benefit, because generally I see it as a cop out. But, I really think this story has possibilities, and I'd like to open them up to all of them. So, bear with me, and keep an eye out for version two which should appear in a few days along with a new chapter. It may or may not have a new name, I've yet to decide.  
  
Thanks to those who are reading, and I hope you'll stick with me.  
  
--PreciousJax beelzebubjax@yahoo.com 


End file.
